


Nachtmusik

by moroiulmeu



Series: Amadeus: Lost Scenes Series [4]
Category: Amadeus (1984)
Genre: If you haven't guessed I'm not a fan of Leopold you skipped something, Implied things but not overly outspoken, M/M, Rating jacked for that but it's still tame, a lot of fluff, hurt/comfort/some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroiulmeu/pseuds/moroiulmeu
Summary: As Wolfgang is recovering from his near brush with death his anxiety sends him into a downward spiral. Antonio isn't standing for that either and is determined to figure out what is wrong. Takes place during the end of the extended alternative ending. This is going somewhere else in the next piece.





	Nachtmusik

**Author's Note:**

> Someone with better Italian feel free to correct me. (Please, if it's wrong.) How did this turn into an ongoing series? I don't even know. The next piece will take place after the extended ending. It's true this is dark but as I said, it's leading up to the next work. There are certain things in Mozart's nature that sadly points some fingers at Leopold. TW: Mentions of abuse of varying natures.

Mozart sat in bed, fidgeting with the corner of his stave paper, unable to concentrate. For once in his life he was confused as to what notes to put down. His mind kept wandering back, unbidden, to Salieri.  
He was entirely unaware of how much he had chewed his quill in aggravation, or how frayed he caused the paper to become, he knew only of his inward struggle. Should he write an aria next? A recitative? A duet? What was Salieri doing now? Was he thinking of the blond tucked up in his bed, still recovering from his near brush with death? How would their newfound relationship progress?  
Worry ate at Mozart's insides, causing them to knot and cramp painfully as his teeth found his hands, his anxiety progressing past the pen.  
Salieri seemed to accept him for all he was and all he was not, but would he keep doing so? Was that love unconditional or would he turn away from him in disgust like the rest?  
Mozart buried his head in his hands, rocking, a sob wracking his body mercilessly. The idea of losing his happiness was too much to bear.  
A soft knock on the door didn't even cause him look up, nor did the sound of the door opening.  
"Wolfgang? Something told me I had better check on you..." Came a voice like silk from the doorway, soft, gentle, easy, laced with concern.  
Salieri.  
Mozart curled up tighter, internally agonizing. How could such a well bred individual as Salieri accept him?  
He gasped painfully as he felt a pair of arms wrap around him tightly, pulling him into a safe embrace.  
"Wolfgang, oddio! Per la miseria!" Salieri exclaimed, grabbing one of his wrists, "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"  
The intensity of Salieri's reproach made Mozart freeze, inhaling sharply. It wasn't until Salieri kissed his hands that he exhaled, starring at him.  
"Ti amo, ti amo... But what were you thinking? Please tell me..." He asked more gently, petting the bite marks with his thumb.  
Mozart slumped, dropping his head on Salieri's shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to get ahold of his thoughts. Salieri remained patient, rubbing his arm and fingers.  
"Be easy... Everything is alright..."  
"Is it?" Mozart asked tonelessly.  
Salieri frowned.  
"I would hope it is... What on earth is the matter?"  
Mozart smiled bitterly, pushing himself up and looking Salieri dead on. Salieri's expression was twisted in worry.  
"I can't do this. I can't taint you."  
The wounded, confused look that seeped into the worry caused Mozart to wince.  
"Antonio, you're perfect, you're clean, you're resplendent in every way... And I'm filthy. How could I think about-"  
"Vai al diavolo, figlio di pu- Wolfgang, I swear to God if you finish that sentence..." Salieri growled, startling Mozart into silence.  
Mozart swallowed watching the dark eyes across from him fill with tears.  
"I love you, you stupid bastard..." Salieri mumbled in anguish, "Don't, please..." He grabbed Mozart's face and kissed the top of his head, "Talk to me... I beg you... These past few weeks have been the best weeks of my life, don't take that from me... Not without telling me why..."  
Mozart sat there stunned for several moments while Salieri refused to let go of him, his head resting against the mess of blond curls. Mozart gave a shaky sigh.  
"Antonio... Adone... I'm sorry... You've seen the marks on my skin-"  
"Gesù, Wolfgang, is that what this is about?" Salieri asked, bewildered, "You're hardly the only person in this room with scars."  
Mozart felt a chill as Salieri pulled back to look at him, starring, his hands on his shoulders.  
"How could you still want me?" Mozart choked, "How could you still want me after him? Why would you want what he's touched?"  
Salieri's face began to fall, changing from confusion to realization, to horror, and then, to Mozart's surprise, not the revulsion he expected, but rage.  
"Anton-"  
The shriek of anger and a mixture of curse words in enough languages that even Mozart's head spun caught him more off guard. He shrank.  
Salieri jumped up and started pacing the room, gesturing faster than Mozart could keep up as he swore. He scratched at his head before throwing the wig on the floor and messed his hair.  
"Antonio..."  
Salieri stopped, hearing the fear in Mozart's voice and fixed him with a stricken look. He held out his hands, trying to find words, but then shook his head, crossed the room, took Mozart by the face and kissed him.  
Mozart felt like someone had cut his strings, like his body became weightless as he drowned in Salieri's emotions, the anger was white hot, but the grief and love felt like a release. Salieri let go and rested his forehead against Mozart's, catching his breath.  
Mozart's eyes slipped shut and he fell forward into a pair of strong arms, his own recent strength leaving him.

  
When Mozart awoke he discovered Salieri's willowy form wrapped protectively around him, his fingers laced through Mozart's loosely but securely, his warm breath on the back of his neck as he dozed.  
He didn't want to move, he felt safer here than anywhere he had ever been, than with anyone he had ever been with. There hadn't been even the briefest thought of rejection, and as he replayed Salieri's reaction through his mind, he wondered why.  
He awkwardly stroked the long bronze fingers in his hand and kissed them softly.  
Mozart mentally kicked himself as he thought of the pain he had seen in that black, shinning abyss, of the shaky notes in the rich baritone voice, of the fear he had seen briefly in that elegant face. He cursed himself quietly, causing Salieri to stir and open his eyes sleepily.  
"Wolfgang?"  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you..."  
"It's okay... How are you feeling?"  
Mozart contemplated his answer.  
"Like shit," He said honestly, knowing better than to say anything else.  
He almost smiled as Salieri tightened his grip in a gentle squeeze.  
"Just rest."  
"We should talk," Mozart replied, running his thumb over his fingers, "We need to talk... I'm sorry I hurt you."  
"I understand."  
"I want- Wait..." He stopped, feeling the chill return, spreading up his spine and seizing his heart in an icy grip, "What do you mean?"  
Salieri kissed his neck.  
"Wolfgang, there are a lot of things in my past I will share over time with you and with you alone but please don't think you have to hide... Or that you are broken, or your value is of any less to me. I would appreciate the same."  
Mozart felt his chest constrict even tighter and he hastily moved and rolled over to stare into Salieri's earnest, troubled expression.  
Not knowing what to say he kissed him lightly before hugging Salieri as though the world would fall out from under him if he let go. He felt the long limbs snake back around him and he sighed.  
"Wolfgang, whatever happened to you it's not going to change my feelings, I would think the past several weeks would have let you know that."  
"It wasn't just my father..."  
"It could have been half of Europe and my response to you would be the same. I would kill each and every one for you, make no mistake, but I would never let you go. Nothing in this world or out of it could change how I feel. I will love you far past the end of time, no matter what anyone says or does and that includes you."  
It wasn't often Mozart found himself speechless, but speechless he was, starring at the tired smile on Salieri's face as his fingers played with the edges of Mozart's untamed hair.  
"Oh, don't get me wrong," Salieri continued, "I am appalled, horrorfied that anyone would dare consider touching you like that and if anyone even so much as entertains that notion again my hand will slip, conveniently holding the sharpest knife I can find... The same holds true for anyone that stands in my way while it does... But as for right now, in this moment, I pray you simply calm down. Relax, please, your health was hardly up to that display."  
Mozart buried his face in Salieri's shirt mumbling an "I love you."

  
Salieri listened quietly to Mozart's story, running his thumbs over his fingers. He didn't interrupt, letting his expressions speak for him.  
At first Mozart had awkwardly began with Leopold's mistreatment, but the confession had spiraled into an outpour. It wasn't long and he was dumping everything inbetween tears, from the horrorific nights spent with Leopold to the nights Leopold had used him to pay the family's fare. Words of the beatings he had received for the wrong notes fell out of his mouth, of the terror he felt whenever he didn't have enough written. Eventually his voice locked back up in a wheeze, a scream lodged somewhere in his throat. It was when he stood there, starring into nothing that he felt Salieri's arms slip around him, pulling him close and rubbing his back. Mozart clung to him like a lifeline.  
"You're safe now," Salieri promised quietly, petting his hair, "I've got you."  
Mozart made a funny noise, tightening his hold on Salieri's jacket.  
"What do you see when you look at me?" He whispered, afraid of the answer.  
Salieri made an amused, thoughtful sound.  
"What do I see when I look at you? Why, Wolfgang, haven't you figured that out? I see the most beautiful creature in the world."  
Mozart's breath caught, as he starred at the far wall blankly.  
"So pure, so wonderful, with skin of ivory, whiter than any key, whiter than the snow falling from the night sky. I see such large, sumptuous eyes, such a clear shade of blue, one I had never seen before, a color possessed not even by the splendor of the evening sky. I look at the thick, lavish curls falling around your angelic face, watching the sun cast itself against them in a way no artist could ever hope to capture. And your voice? I hear your voice, and your music, and I am conscious only of the voice of God calling my name, the very voice of Heaven beckoning me closer, like a siren. I look at you and I cannot believe I am fortunate enough to call you mine, to hold you in my arms, to kiss you senseless, to keep you safe, to love you with every part of my being, with every fiber of my soul... I look at you and I see my world, Wolfgang," Salieri paused and chuckled, "Listen to me, you've gone and made me a poet."  
Mozart stood rooted to the spot, Salieri's words echoing in his ears, pulling at his heartstrings playfully, lovingly, tenderly, making it hard to breathe.  
"I..."  
"Shh... Ti amo, mio lupo."  
Their lips met and Mozart was aware of the salty taste of his own tears only briefly as Salieri's hands found his hair.  
"If you would permit me, if I may be so bold, I would rather enjoy replacing every thought of your scars with only the memory of my lips against your skin."  
Mozart had never blushed so hard in his life.  
"I think, Maestro, I'd rather like that."

  
Mozart curled up closer, listening to the comforting sound of Salieri's heartbeat, to the gentle rhythm of his breath, enjoying the bodyheat. He had spent the rest of the night memorizing every scar, of which, Salieri had quite a number of his own, and every line of the copper skin. He had been so taken by the man's appearance, so deeply struck with awe that he had barely registered any other emotion at first. To him, the man's mystique only seemed to increase. His heart had nearly stopped when Salieri's voice fell to a low whisper in his ears. Mozart would take the night to his grave.  
For the first time he felt comfortable in his own skin, well loved, perfectly at ease, and like he finally belonged somewhere. There had been no pain, he had remembered no one else's scent, there had been only Salieri's, no other taste on his lips but Salieri's, no memory of other hands on his body, and no thought of sheets besides these.  
He smiled, watching the sleeping composer peacefully, tracing his soft lips, thinking of how he wanted nothing more in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Oddio = Oh God  
Per la miseria = For pete's sake/For Chrissake/For crying out loud  
Ti amo = I love you  
Vai al diavolo, figlio di pu... = Go to hell, you son of a...  
Gesù = God/Jesus  
Mio lupo = My wolf


End file.
